


poetic justice

by acciomerlin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), Dogs, Established Relationship, M/M, Mindless Fluff, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciomerlin/pseuds/acciomerlin
Summary: Merlin will do anything to make Arthur happy, and so will his magic.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 384





	poetic justice

Being Court Sorcerer of Camelot meant Merlin had helped get magic legalised but he never actually got time to use it anymore. Yes, he did things like putting up protective wards around the city, improve the soil fertility, constantly revise policies on sorcery or come up with healing spells for the latest new sickness, but he still never got to use his magic just for the sake of it anymore –for fun, for the thrill. He missed it dearly.

Alternately, being King Consort meant Merlin had managed to officially become a permanent fixture at Arthur’s side but he never actually got time to spend with him anymore. It’d gotten rather embarrassing when George had caught Merlin glaring daggers at him while he was dressing Arthur –just because Merlin hadn’t touched his husband in hours.

Merlin knew he needed to remedy both these problems before he lost his mind and that’s how he found himself in the middle of large forest clearing with Arthur, who looked rather unsure about what was happening.

It was a week until Beltane, right before their schedules would get ridiculously hectic and this was the only day Merlin could find when he could safely drag the king away for a few hours without the kingdom erupting in flames.

“Are these killer butterflies?” Arthur asked, as he surveyed the purple ones that were fluttering about his head.

“No.”

“Hmm. Do they have to be pounded into a paste as a cure for the nasty rash that’s spreading among the knights –”

“No.”

“Okay, I get it. They can transform into beasts when you need, right? Oh, our enemies will never see them coming –”

“ _No,_ Arthur. They are _just butterflies_!” Merlin exclaimed in frustration. “Colourful insects with wings, that’s it.”

Arthur looked puzzled as he leaned back on his elbows. “Just butterflies? What purpose does that serve?”

“They don’t serve a purpose,” Merlin replied impatiently. “That’s the point! I conjured them because I like them and I think it makes you look very pretty when a blue one sits on your hair like that.”

Arthur flushed pink. “Err…”

Merlin sighed. “See? We are always stressing about the kingdom and its problems now–which is not to say we shouldn’t –but we never just get to _be,_ you know? I miss using my magic for no reason other than to simply enjoy how it feels, and I miss spending time with you.”

Arthur’s eyes softened and he smiled, dropping back on the blanket so he could pull Merlin on top of him. “That’s true enough. George looks about ready to resign because he thinks you’re planning on hexing him.”

Merlin scoffed, resting his head on Arthur’s chest. “I wouldn’t _hex_ him, just maybe give him a few infectious boils on his hands so he can’t put them all over your body –”

“ _Merlin.”_

“Fine, whatever. Why are we talking about George, anyway?” Merlin complained, letting another tendril of magic flow out and letting it do as it pleased. He closed his eyes when he felt Arthur’s fingers at the nape of his neck and sighed contentedly.

“Mmm, feels nice,” he mumbled, feeling his tightly coiled body finally relax.

“I can’t believe you got the council meeting cancelled by letting Aithusa loose in the council chambers. Some of those advisors are _eighty_ , Merlin,” Arthur murmured, sounding far too amused to seem chastising.

“She’s just a baby,” Merlin insisted. “She won’t do much harm, don’t worry. Besides, I think it’s about time those councillors retired anyway –”

He was interrupted by a loud yelp.

Arthur’s hand in his hair stilled and he sat up slowly. “What was that?”

Merlin frowned. “Sounded like a dog –”

No sooner had he said the word when a puppy came bounding up to them, its tongue lolling out of its mouth.

It immediately went to Arthur, attempting to climb up his knee and onto his lap. Arthur just stared at it in bewilderment.

“Merlin, did you just –”

Merlin felt heat creep up his neck and he rubbed at it sheepishly. “Um –yeah. My magic might have done that.”

Arthur turned to him with wide eyes. “Conjured a dog?”

“A puppy,” Merlin corrected, as if that made any difference.

The dog was pure white in colour, shimmering just enough to tell that it was a product of magic.

Arthur shook his head incredulously as the puppy pawed at his stomach. “Butterflies, I can understand but this –”

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Merlin tried to explain hurriedly. “I mean, I did but I didn’t know this is the form it would take. I just thought it would make you a flower crown again or something –”

As if on cue, an intricate wreath made up of yellow and lilac wildflowers appeared on Arthur’s head.

Merlin huffed in disbelief, crossing his arms. “This magic thing is highly embarrassing.”

Arthur smiled smugly. “So, the embodiment of your magic is just things I like and the things _you_ like me in?”

Merlin was about to dispute that claim despite its complete accuracy when he stopped short. “Wait –things you like? Puppies? You like puppies that much?”

Merlin was surprised that he didn’t know this about him. He knew Arthur had a certain fondness for his hunting dogs but to Merlin’s knowledge, it didn’t really go beyond the occasional scratch behind the ears.

Arthur bit his lip and looked down at the puppy, absently stroking his back. “Yeah, I suppose,” he admitted, then sighed. “It’s not –it’s just that I used to have one as a child. A puppy, I mean.”

Merlin stared at him. “What happened to it?”

Arthur swallowed, heaving a shuddering breath. Merlin’s chest constricted in anticipation.

“My father –” Arthur began in a hoarse voice, then cleared his throat. “My father had it thrown out. He said I was becoming too attached to it and that it was a –a weakness. I was eleven.”

Not for the first time, tremendously intense rage for Uther Pendragon filled Merlin’s veins and he gritted his teeth to keep it in check.

At the same time, his heart clenched painfully at the thought of the empty and suffocating childhood Arthur had endured. A wave of protectiveness washed over Merlin and he itched to draw him to a tight hug and never let him go.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, touching Arthur’s arm. “That’s awful.”

Arthur shrugged carelessly, as if it didn’t affect him anymore but Merlin could see the longing in his eyes as he let the puppy lick his palm.

He almost couldn’t bear the crestfallen look on Arthur’s face when the magic started seeping back into the Earth and the puppy slowly disappeared into nothingness.

Arthur frowned at the empty spot on his lap but didn’t say anything.

Merlin’s magic immediately started clamouring inside him at seeing Arthur upset and leapt up to make him feel better.

Within moments, there were platters of honey cakes appearing out of thin air and Merlin was suddenly donned in a rich, purple tunic with a silver dragon circlet sitting atop his head.

Merlin looked down at himself and then raised his eyebrows at Arthur, who was staring at him shamelessly.

Merlin rolled his eyes, even as his heart raced. “Really?”

A slow smile curved Arthur’s lips, his gaze turning a little heated. “Gods, I love your magic.”

Merlin agreed, even if his mouth was soon too occupied to voice it.

***

Merlin was up at dawn.

That was a lie.

He hadn’t slept at all.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the young prince who’d cruelly had his best friend snatched away from him and made to think that love was a weakness.

Merlin knew that Arthur had long grown out of this mentality but something still niggled at Merlin uncomfortably, Arthur’s wanting expression flashing before his eyes again and again.

After a torturous conversation with Gaius the previous day about what colour Arthur’s pup had been –

(“I distinctly remember some brown fur but I’m not sure –”

“Gaius!”

“Merlin, you must understand that I am an old man and my memory is not what it used to be.”

“Please try, this is important!”

“The gesture is lovely but why the _colour_ is so important to you is truthfully beyond me – _black_. Yes, I’m confident that it was black. Although -”)

-Merlin scoured the whole city for a black pup with white fur on its chest and almost ended up enchanting a brown puppy to change colour, until he saw exactly what he was looking for in the Lower Town under the shade of a sweetmeats cart.

Merlin slipped into their chambers quietly and made his way towards the bed, excitement brimming under his skin.

At first glance, Arthur seemed to be asleep but as Merlin slid under the covers, the sheets rustled and a bleary-eyed Arthur turned to face him.

“Where have you been?” he asked, voice raspy. “You didn’t come to bed last night.”

Merlin could barely contain his smile. “Sorry, I was doing something –doing something for you.”

Arthur blinked. “For me?”

Merlin leaned forward and pecked his lips once, twice. “Yes, for you. Do you want to see?”

Arthur nodded, his gaze becoming sharper. Merlin grabbed his hand under the blanket and dragged it forward until Arthur gasped.

“Merlin, tell me you didn’t,” he breathed.

Merlin grinned.

In an instant, Arthur wrenched the covers away and stared in wide-eyed wonder at the black puppy with a white chest curled up on the mattress, sleeping soundly.

Arthur’s voice trembled. “That’s –he’s just like –just like my – _Merlin._ How did you know?”

Merlin shrugged, dimples poking into his cheeks. “I have my ways.”

Arthur looked too overwhelmed to express himself properly so Merlin just brought his hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Your father was wrong,” he said softly. “Love isn’t a weakness.”

Arthur’s eyes found his with a burning intensity. “I know.”

As the puppy sneezed and Arthur unrestrainedly smiled down at it, Merlin realised with pride that he truly did.

Somewhere, Uther Pendragon rolled over in his grave and his son rolled over in his bed –with a sorcerer under him.

Merlin had never known poetic justice before but he thought that this might be it.

***

**Author's Note:**

> I met an adorable black stray puppy today that I desperately wanted to adopt but couldn't because of, well, reasons. So, to mend my broken heart, I stayed up till 3 am and wrote this self-indulgent piece of fluff (that doesn't even make much sense) just to give my baby Arthur what I couldn't have *sobs*
> 
> Anyway, I do plan to write a much better (and longer) Court Sorcerer/Consort Merlin fic in the future btw so don't be disheartened by this.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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